


A Dragon Flies

by Vivian



Category: Jupiter Ascending (2015)
Genre: F/M, Sexual Content, Sibling Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-11
Updated: 2015-05-11
Packaged: 2018-03-30 00:33:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,013
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3916516
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vivian/pseuds/Vivian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>His body arches towards her. A smile curves her lips. They move against each other smoothly like children while they dream.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Dragon Flies

**Author's Note:**

> JA does strange things to me, one of them is writing hetero fic. Unbeta'd.  
> Enjoy!

“I wanna fuck,” Titus mumbles, his lips soft against her collarbone. It does not sound vulgar when he says it.

 “You always want to fuck,” Kalique scolds mildly and turns them around. She straddles Titus' hips. His body arches towards her. A smile curves her lips. They move against each other smoothly like children while they dream. In the warm afternoon light their ivory skin glints. Whispers of moire silk midst the air of Cerise's everlasting spring.

 Titus underneath her—his face so bright, eager. He is like a flower opening its petals to the rosy-fingered dawn. He is full of awe. No lie is in his worship of her body. Most of his words are false, but his touch never is. He is beautiful, too. More beautiful than their mother ever was. Balem knows it as well and hates Titus for it. But Balem doesn't see him like this. Soft lips parted, cheeks flushed and his eyes like a morning sky awakening. Kalique lets her fingertips graze over his neck, his collarbone. She leans down. She strokes his hair. They kiss.

 There is a softness to him she sometimes cannot bear. A submission that has nothing to do with weakness. Where Balem is a wound, Titus is sweet elixir. How young he still is. It's poisonous to drink too deeply of his lenity.

 “I need you,” he murmurs against her lips while his fingers slide down her body. No insistence in his touch, no command. This moment he is all hers. He knows her as only a brother knows his sister. She sighs against his lips as one of his fingers dips into her. His other hand strokes her breast lightly. It is enough to let her shiver pleasantly. He knows her. He takes his time. They move against each other lazily. The light turns crimson, then cools. Night sinks over Cerise like a black veil embroidered with stars.

 

 Satisfaction makes her cruel. She feasts on Titus' growing desperation. His trembling hips, his fingers gripping the sheets. Rarely she allows him inside her, she prefers the use of fingers and tongue. Before his skin has looked like marvel, now it's like he's made of wax, warmed by a hungry candle. So pliable.

 “Beautiful boy,” she whispers. She is a creature of olden times, she is so far from him. And yet with every passing year the distance between them closes in. Perhaps one day it will not matter. Today it still does.

 Slowly she lets her hand move up and down his length, she bows down and kisses his temple. He looks up. He is so close. She speeds up her movement. Titus' brow creases. His eyes flutter shut. A breath catches in his throat. When he comes, his whole body is shaking. He is clinging to her, his arms around her as if he were a child she saved from downing.

 

Carefully she strokes a strand of hair from his forehead. Sweat glistens on his skin, she feels it wet against her fingertips. She kisses his temple, parts her lips, tastes it.

“You have to leave soon,” she murmurs then, pulling away. His body follows her motion, his arms wrap around her again.

 “Let me stay,” he whispers. She is inclined to, but there are matters she has to attend. They're of a nature that Titus must not be aware of.

 “Another time,” she says yet leans into his touch. His lips find hers, he is still warm and he tastes so sweetly. His kiss is ever careful. Sometimes she wonders how he is with his splices and affairs. Is he more dominant then? Does he take rather than ask? It seems unlikely. Titus is too soft. Yes, he can be cruel, aren't they all, but not in these things. Then again very few reject her brother. He has no need of force. She ends the kiss. He sighs against her lips. Then he licks her upper lip cheekily before he moves back a little.

 “Will you bathe with me before I go?” he asks. There is the ever present shudder to his voice, as if he were out of breath. Oh, she knows it so well.

  

They undress each other with nimble fingers. Touch comes naturally to them. The nectar is prickling on their skin. Titus takes her hand and leads her deeper into the bath.

 She slides her fingers over his collarbone, his shoulders, his chest. He is a god indeed, forever young and foolish.

 “What must you do once I am gone?” he asks as he pulls her close. Skin against skin. It reminds her of their first time.

 “Lets not talk now,” she says. And as then, she kisses him first. Oh, that first kiss. They had been light-headed, their laughter echoing in the corridor. Warm air, summer, wine, her gorgette dress. They had been joking and she'd playfully pushed him against a wall, he had pulled her with him. They had laughed, forehead against forehead. Then she had kissed him and for the first time in a long while her heart had fluttered. Such days, long gone. Yet _they_ have remained while others have perished. How it is possible she does not know. But she knows Titus needs her more than she needs him. Or perhaps that's just what she tells herself.

 She pushes Titus away. Steps out of the bath. He follows her. Anger rises inside her, she does not want him here now. His smile is gentle, but there's something in the corner of his eyes. Something malicious. Oh they are all their mother's children.

 “You know the way,” she says sharply. Titus kisses her hand. She bites her lip not to slap him right then. The nectar may preserve the youth of their flesh, but inside they fester, rot. They're all ugly creatures. Kalique lets a sim dress her, then she retreats to her chambers. A grim smile stretches her lips. She takes a deep breath. Then she calls for Maledictes. There's a deal to be made as soon as Titus has departed.

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Please let me know what you think of this <3  
> (Also did anyone get the pun in the title?)


End file.
